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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29725056">Meet Me Halfway</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneAristoCat/pseuds/OneAristoCat'>OneAristoCat</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Alternate Universe - No Voldemort, Developing Relationship, Enemies With Benefits, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Hogwarts Era, Hogwarts Seventh Year, Smut, They can be a bit problematic but also not really because they're working on it?, this is really just an excuse for smut lol</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 19:27:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,314</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29725056</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneAristoCat/pseuds/OneAristoCat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>They both knew how dangerous their little game could become, back in the first few weeks of Seventh Year when their pent-up frustration and rivalry morphed into something else entirely. </p>
<p>Hogwarts Seventh Year - No Voldemort</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>315</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Meet Me Halfway</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I said fuck canon with this one. Also, there's hanky-panky.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Draco was going to <em>extirpate</em> Potter.</p>
<p><br/>He felt damp down to his bones, his emerald green jersey soaked under the cape and glued to his body like a second skin. Perhaps it was the snake in him – or simply his ill-humoured self – but he couldn’t wait to shed it. </p>
<p><br/>All he had to do was catch the <em>bloody</em> Snitch.</p>
<p><br/>It had been pouring all afternoon but it was still no wonder that the stands were packed in red and green. First game of the year. Gryffindor versus Slytherin. The prissy lions and the shrew serpents. A landslide of points packed into a pestilent little winged golden wretch. <em>Glory</em>.</p>
<p><br/>But <em>fuck</em>, was he freezing.</p>
<p><br/>Draco dipped under the stands with enough impetus to drive himself dizzy as the Bludger tore after him, the Gryffindor Seeker and Professional Tosser trailing not far behind. It didn’t concern him in the least. If anything, it told him the damned thing was close by, since Potter wouldn’t be rushing to him otherwise. Even away from the scrutinous eyes up above in the field, the bloke wouldn’t attempt to injure or even slightly shove him, lest he lose his sanctity. Righteous git he was, but the four-eyes <em>did</em> have a natural talent for it. </p>
<p><br/><em>There</em>. Draco saw it. Belatedly compared to Potter, but his trajectory could imply he'd been after it the whole time so he'd stick to that, if anyone asked. Adrenaline rushed down his veins as a diagonal beam seemed to Apparate in front of him, and he barely managed to grip the handle tightly and flip backwards to avoid the collusion. Fuck, he was rusty.</p>
<p>They were both bolting up in the air a second later as the golden ball shot towards the sky. The heavy rain didn’t let up. </p>
<p><br/>“<em>Fucking</em> hell, Malfoy!” Potter wailed like a bloody girl when they crashed, the Snitch long gone. “Watch where you're fucking going! This is getting ridiculous. We'll be here all day!”</p>
<p><br/>“I got disoriented, you troglodyte,” Draco snarled. “If you're playing fair, you can count on me doing the same. I can't fucking see going up in this bloody downpour.”</p>
<p><br/>Potter scoffed. “You damned amateur. You still play with no backing? That's a long way from buying your ticket in, back in Second Year.”</p>
<p><br/>It didn’t take any sort of grand observational skills to notice his lenses were clean and dry as crystal – and why – but Draco decided not to acknowledge it.</p>
<p>“Careful now, Potty. With the number of times you've thrown that offhanded jab around, one would begin to wonder if you're not bitter about me catching the sodding walnut for Slytherin's last four matches. You're starting to sound obsessed with me and honestly, I'm not interested. Even the fucking rain clearly wants nothing to do with you.”</p>
<p><br/>The Gryffindor's fuming lasted barely a second but Draco chose to tally his mental score up, nonetheless. </p>
<p><br/>“<em>Actually</em>-” Oh, what a Merlin-damned wanker with a painful inability to perceive sarcasm. “It’s a charm. Hermione cast it.” Draco didn’t miss the way he pinned him with his stare. “Probably something out of your pathetic little league.”</p>
<p><br/>Draco returned the piercing gaze and allowed a teasing smirk to tug at his lips. It was too easy. He couldn’t miss the opportunity. “<em>Oh</em>, it's not, Potter. And you have no idea how <em>not</em> out of my league- <em>it</em>…is.”</p>
<p><br/>That one had to earn him <em>at least</em> five points.</p>
<p><br/>Draco took great pleasure in playing these little mind games with the bloke hovering in the air in front of him. When his walking encyclopedia and sole functioning brain among the trio was amiss, Potter took a laughable amount of time to decipher his innuendos. Saint Potter, indeed.</p>
<p><br/>“You stay away from her,” he warned with a deep snarl. “I mean it, Malfoy.”</p>
<p><br/>The Slytherin was sure he'd be plummeting towards the ground while Potter attempted to punch the life out of him if he had had the time to answer, but the rogue Bludger forced their spat to come to an abrupt stop. They both dodged it in time but Draco's back hit Goyle as he flew behind him. </p>
<p><br/>“What the <em>fuck</em> do you think you're doing, Malfoy? We're trailing behind!” </p>
<p><br/>“Working on it,” he drawled, barely sparing his teammate a glance. </p>
<p><br/>“<em>And Ginny Weasley scores! Ten points to Gryffindor!”</em></p>
<p><br/>Goyle bared his teeth at him. “Work. <em>Faster</em>.”</p>
<p><br/>Goyle would probably assume his impression of a hissing badger to be the reason he bolted towards the middle of the field with such speed, but he honestly couldn’t bring himself to care. Catching up to Potter, Draco was faster on a particularly sharp turn and managed to get ahead by a few centimeters.</p>
<p><br/>Safe to say he was <em>kind</em> of anticipating the hard shove that thrusted him sideways. Was he still surprised Potter had it in him? Yes. Was it justified? Also yes. </p>
<p><br/>“Someone’s sensitive all of a sudden,” Draco mocked loudly over the sound of the shower around them. </p>
<p><br/>“Sod. <em>Off!</em>” Potter yelled with finality.</p>
<p><br/>It was on.</p>
<p><br/>He knew the red-clad git wouldn’t be playing games anymore, determined to one-up him once and for all. He'd be doing the same. </p>
<p><br/>Draco charged with as much reckless abandonment as the Gryffindor Seeker, and briefly wondered if the activities he'd been engaging in for the past two months were rubbing off on him. </p>
<p><br/>Over the thunderstorm, he heard the announcer claiming another shot for Gryffindor. His hands tightened around the broom. As far as he could see, the Weaslette had the Quaffle in her arms again, and Potter was close to touching the Snitch with his fingertips.</p>
<p><br/>With one swift glance to the side, it dawned on him what Goyle's pea-sized brain might be conjuring up.</p>
<p>Beating the Bludger towards Potter would be the safest bet. Though, if Goyle's howled comments of his performance today were anything to go by, he'd wager that he didn’t have much faith in Draco's ability to win them the match. Even if he <em>did</em> catch the flipping Snitch… Should the Weaslette score once more, Gryffindor would still win. </p>
<p><br/>Goyle swung his bat.</p>
<p><br/>It was at that moment, when he saw the trajectory the wrecking ball had taken, that he promised himself he'd beat the dimwit to a pulp. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <em>Oh, this loathsome, barmy arsehole!</em>
</p>
<p><br/>How very Slytherin of him to risk a foul to stop the game altogether.</p>
<p><br/>“<em>Fuck</em>!” It was instinct to speed towards Gryffindor's stand like lightning, his heart galloping in his chest when he realized the rogue ball was aimed straight at the row where the Seventh Year group was sitting. Shit, shit, shit! They were distracted, their heads turned to where Potter had bolted to. “Granger!” </p>
<p><br/>The brunette spun in his general direction and froze. She wouldn’t have time to get her wand.</p>
<p><br/>With one last sprint, Draco reached the stands, ready to absorb the impact. </p>
<p><br/>“Get out of the <em>way</em>!” He heard Potter's voice and felt himself being violently hurled away.</p>
<p><br/>Draco fell. <em>Hard</em>. His ears were ringing, lungs heavy as the air was punched out of his chest when he collided with the ground. In the distance, he heard screams. A crash. The buzzing of mechanical fluttering wings. </p>
<p><br/>The Snitch was in his hand. </p>
<p><br/>“<em>Goodness me</em>!” Madam Hooch reached the commotion in record time. “Are you all alright? Mr. Potter, can you stand?”</p>
<p><br/>It was hard enough to hear the yellow-eyed witch from that far, so Potter's mumbled groans among the Gryffindors' ruckus was virtually impossible to discern. Draco did see him nod though, before the dark-haired git turned to Granger and placed a hand on her shoulder in a silent inspection for damage.</p>
<p><br/>“<em>Uhm- Madam Hooch?</em>” The announcer's voice resounded. “<em>Draco Malfoy has caught the Snitch but- wasn’t that a foul?</em>”</p>
<p><br/>The Flying Instructor took a moment to surveil the scene, her unnatural lemon quartz gaze trailing from where Draco was still sprawled on the field to the uninjured Gryffindors.</p>
<p><br/>“Wasn’t the Bludger aimed at Potter?”</p>
<p><br/><em>No</em>, Draco thought, finding himself still unable to speak and having to resort to shooting daggers at a sniggering Goyle. </p>
<p><br/><em>Fuck</em>. He was freezing from the rain. In pain from the fall. Pissed off beyond belief from having to watch Potter play hero again. </p>
<p><br/>This was <em>not</em> a good day. </p>
<p><br/>“<em>Right…</em>” The announcer sighed and he had to remember to yet again petition that impartial individuals <em>only</em> be granted the position. “<em>Slytherin wins.</em>”</p>
<p><br/>The green stands roared while red quieted down. <br/>Draco struggled to get up, his eyes still trained on the scene above him. Both Granger and Weasley were fumbling with Potter, who shrugged with a smile like the precious little self-sacrificing twat he was. Granger lightly grazed his forehead and Draco had to look away lest he throw up. </p>
<p><br/>It didn’t feel like he had won.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>'Would you tell me where you are already?’</em>
</p>
<p><br/>The enchanted piece of parchment went up in flames upon receiving nothing but a quick dismissal from him.</p>
<p><br/>Draco winced and retracted his fingers as the salve he'd been garnering the courage to spread down the cut on his arm burned his flesh. Whatever hellish cocktail of herbs Granger had mixed in it was effective all right, but he had his doubts about <em>numbing</em>, like she had kindly put it. If painful-like-a-son-of-a-biscuit-'till-you-feel-numb is what she meant, then yes, he'd agree with her.</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <em>‘Alright, I saw you going towards the dungeons… But it'd be nice if you stopped ignoring me so I wouldn’t feel unwanted for dropping by uninvited… Meet me halfway here, would you?'</em>
</p>
<p><br/>She'd given it to him last month after a particularly roughed up Quidditch practice, but he hadn’t had the need for it ever since. He didn’t particularly feel like heading over to the Hospital Wing after the match. The less time he had to endure the company of the Golden Trio, who would no doubt be spending the rest of the afternoon there while Potter recovered, the better. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <em>'You are impossible.’</em>
</p>
<p><br/>Now, if he could slice the Trio up and throw away the useless trimmings, that'd be a whole other story.</p>
<p><br/>“I'm starting to regret giving you the password,” he mumbled without spite when he heard the dainty footsteps he'd come to recognize a mile away reach the entrance of the dorm room. “You can't just waltz in the Slytherin Dungeon whenever you want without repercussions, Granger.”</p>
<p><br/>The nosy witch was at the door, one hand on each side of the frame. “Yes, I can. It worked really well, see?”</p>
<p><br/>Draco would normally smile at their banter, but he found that he didn’t have the energy today.<br/>“Shouldn’t you be upstairs at dinner?”</p>
<p><br/>“Shouldn’t <em>you</em>?” she asked, taking a step towards him. “After a Quidditch match, nonetheless. You need energy.”</p>
<p><br/>It was still kind of ironic to him, how attuned to each other they could be sometimes. His own house didn’t bat an eye when he announced he'd be skipping the feast and staying at the dorm but <em>of course</em> the know-it-all <em>knew</em>.</p>
<p><br/>“Has the statue been lifted in Potter's honor yet?” he asked nonchalantly, getting back to working on his wound. </p>
<p><br/>“No, but we're planning on selling memorabilia next week,” Granger joked chirpily. “<em>Oh</em>, give it.”</p>
<p><br/>Draco protested rather half-heartedly when she swatted his hand away and pulled his arm towards her. It still stung like fresh hell but he found the sensation numbed by the soft glide of her fingers against his skin and the muted scent of her freesia and pepper perfume as she stood between his legs at the edge of the bed. </p>
<p><br/>“Congratulations on the win, by the way.”</p>
<p><br/>He scoffed. “Oh, we're doing that?”</p>
<p><br/>She tilted her head in appraisal. “Doing what?”</p>
<p><br/>“Pretending you root for Slytherin when there are red wasps flying around.”</p>
<p><br/>The brunette stifled a laugh. “I never said I <em>rooted</em> for Slytherin. I am, however, a gracious loser and an expert assessor of flyability and general Snitch-snatching prowess.”</p>
<p><br/>“Always knew it would be my Snitch-snatching winning you over.”</p>
<p><br/>There was no answer apart from her lips pressing together to keep her smile from spreading out, he guessed.</p>
<p><br/>“Can I- ask you something?” Granger uttered in the smallest voice he had ever heard from her after a while. “Were you going after the Snitch?”</p>
<p><br/>Draco's forehead scrunched up in thought. “That’s <em>kind</em> of my job on the team, Granger.”</p>
<p><br/>The sneaky witch definitely pressed her fingers down harder after his comment. “I- just… I thought I heard you calling my name,” she said, yet despite her words, he didn’t find a speck of uncertainty laced in her tone. “Were you… worried about me?” </p>
<p><br/>Draco breathed in deeply. He didn’t have to tilt his neck too far back to look her in the eye. He was a great deal taller than her, so even while sitting down they were more or less on equal footing. </p>
<p><br/>“Are <em>you</em> worried about me?” </p>
<p><br/>Gryffindor or not, she still gulped as he held her gaze. Trying to break the figurative spell, her own eyes travelled elsewhere and eventually landed on the cut on his forehead, partially hidden by the silvery locks that fell on his skin. </p>
<p><br/>It was ridiculous, really, how badly he wanted to whine at the way she brushed his hair back and traced her thumb around the red cut. Hadn’t she touched Potter that exact same way back in the pitch?</p>
<p><br/>“<em>Stop</em>,” he hissed, curling his hand around her wrist. If she didn’t want to say it, then he didn’t want to feel it.</p>
<p><br/>They both knew how dangerous their little game could become, back in the first few weeks of Seventh Year when their pent-up frustration and rivalry morphed into something else entirely. He didn’t care. He didn’t know if she did, either. All he knew was that he craved her touch. <em>Her</em>.</p>
<p><br/>The brunette gasped a broken version of his name when he tugged her forward, forcing her to lose her balance and having her reduced to leaning on his shoulders to stable herself. Draco took the opportunity to sneak his hands under the soft skin of her thighs and pull her to straddle his lap. </p>
<p><br/>The concerned brush of her fingers on his skin was foreign to them. <em>This</em> was familiar.</p>
<p><br/>“<em>Draco</em>-” He wanted to kiss her breathless whenever she called him like that. “You're hurt…”</p>
<p><br/>He laughed throatily at her feeble attempt to reason with him. Loosening the red and golden tie with practiced mastery, he then worked on the buttons of her shirt as his teeth nibbled a trail down her neck. <br/>“Like that's ever stopped us before.” </p>
<p><br/>He felt her shudder in his arms at the wet open-mouthed kiss he planted between her breasts. Draco himself felt dizzy with his head buried in her clothes, his large hands wrapping her tiny waist possessively, nearly all the way around.</p>
<p><br/>“Are you? Worried about me, Hermione?” </p>
<p><br/>He punctuated her name with a firm grind of her hips down on his, so the reason for her whimper wasn’t definite to him. Not that he cared about <em>reason</em> at present. Draco placed a hand on the small of her back and dragged her closer, sitting her on top of his cock and holding her there.</p>
<p><br/>“Answer me, love,” he whispered, grasping her waist in an iron-grip so she wouldn’t squirm away, and thrusting up against her sensitive heat. </p>
<p><br/>“<em>Draco</em>-” She gasped when he lifted his head, coming to a breath's distance from her lips. “What- what are you d-doing?”</p>
<p><br/>She never let him kiss her.</p>
<p><br/>He felt like he knew her taste, nonetheless. Her breath tickled his lips and he knew it'd be like sweet lemon drops.</p>
<p><br/>They had set that as a boundary. Or <em>she</em> had. At the time, when all he wanted was to delve between her soft thighs, he didn’t care. It seemed laughable to him, how she insisted on keeping that bit of intimacy out of their arrangement while he resumed lifting her hips off the porcelain of the bathroom's sink to ram her down on his cock. He couldn’t regret it more if he tried now.</p>
<p><br/>“I think you are,” Draco whispered against her mouth. “I think you're so worried it worries you, doesn’t it?”</p>
<p><br/>His stormy grays focused on her plump rose lips. She had her teeth sinking painfully into the flesh of the bottom one, desperately trying to keep her cries in as he continued to rub her down on his covered length.</p>
<p><br/>He knew she hated it. She had told him before how it was good, but a torturous kind of good. To release on nothing, to feel her insides desperate to clench around him.</p>
<p><br/>He hardly cared at the moment.</p>
<p><br/>It was their battle of wills he was interested in. She fought to keep her moans in. He wanted to get her words out.</p>
<p><br/>“Let me,” he pleaded, brushing his lips on hers like a feather on paper. </p>
<p><br/>Her hips were moving against him with no aid on his part now. She curled the fingers of one of her hands on the short hairs on the back of his neck, the others turning white with the desperate force with which she clung to his shoulder.</p>
<p><br/>“Let me, <em>Hermione</em>,” he repeated, and kneaded one of her breasts over the cloth of her shirt and lacy bra, feather-light and teasing. He got exactly what he wanted when she cried in response, her lips parting to allow him to feel her moist breath on his.</p>
<p><br/>“No- you… you know we can’t,” she moaned almost as if in pain, her hips lifting off the bed so she could fumble with his belt.</p>
<p><br/>He grasped her hands and pulled them away, before thrusting against her again. <em>Hard</em>.</p>
<p><br/>“<em>Ahh</em>- Draco!”</p>
<p><br/>Draco kissed her chin softly, slowly, the pads of his thumbs rubbing tight circles on the skin of her wrists. “Let me…”</p>
<p><br/>She paused, considering it, before shaking her head. Her hazel eyes opened to meet his. “Please? I can't- not like this…”</p>
<p><br/>It was his turn to deny her, his hips resuming their agonising pace against hers. “I will, if you let me.”</p>
<p><br/>Draco took no pleasure in seeing her so distraught, her beautiful caramel-colored eyes glazed over with tears from the need to reach her peak. But he wouldn’t give in. </p>
<p><br/>“We can’t, damn you!” She cried at a particularly rough shove against her quivering form. She cursed him, but her tone was so soft, her eyes so gentle, her hands so eager to pull him into her as her forehead fell against his…</p>
<p><br/>“Why not?” He breathed, his palms slipping beneath her uniform to caress the skin of her navel. “You didn’t come here to let me <em>fuck</em> you, Hermione.” Draco gritted out through ragged breaths. “You came because you were worried. And you don’t worry over someone you've only been fucking.” She had wrapped both her arms around his neck, her eyes shutting tightly with how badly she seemed to be aching. “So, what do you say we put a stop to this little game, love?”</p>
<p><br/>Words weren’t registering anymore. She was moving with wild abandonment now, her chest pressing against his hard one, thighs trembling with the approaching high that seemed just out of reach.<br/>Draco didn’t think she would notice before it was too late if he did kiss her right now. He allowed his eyes to wander to her parted lips. <em>No. Not without her.</em></p>
<p><br/>“You- <em>ahh</em>, <em>fuck</em>,” he grunted as she pressed harder against him. “You didn’t want feelings between us. But it’s a little too late now, isn’t it, Hermione?” He gripped her arse and growled, low and domineering. “So, <em>let me</em>…”</p>
<p><br/>She sobbed. Her back arched. Her lips turned away from his.</p>
<p><br/>“I- I’m- <em>Draco</em>!” Granger buried her face in his shoulder as the waves hit her and she struggled to stay afloat.</p>
<p><br/>Draco had to bite his own tongue to keep his cool, the feel of her pliant body convulsing against his still as all-consuming as the first time. He held her tightly to his chest, one arm around her back while the other's hand cradled her head gently. </p>
<p><br/>It took her a few minutes to get her composure back, and he was ashamed to admit he took advantage of the moment to bury his nose in her soft auburn locks, memorising their muted scent and silkiness.</p>
<p><br/><em>Ashamed</em>…</p>
<p><br/>His eyes shot open. That wasn’t right. What kind of blasted state was the damned witch keeping him in where he'd feel <em>guilty</em> for basking in the scent of her hair?</p>
<p><br/>“We need to talk, Granger.”</p>
<p><br/>“Yes- we do.” He didn’t expect her to mirror his frustration and heighten it some. “What were you trying to accomplish, exactly?”</p>
<p><br/>Draco's eyes narrowed and the hands still around her torso tensed. “<em>What</em>? I think I left <em>that</em> perfectly clear.”</p>
<p><br/>Hermione breathed shakily. “You did. But what would <em>us</em> doing <em>that</em> accomplish, Draco?”</p>
<p><br/>“<em>Us doing tha</em>t? You mean you letting me kiss you like any regular two people <em>fucking</em> on the daily would do? Or do you mean admitting once and for all that this thing has gotten out of hand?” Draco tried to keep his voice down but found it more and more difficult by the second. “Look, Hermione-”</p>
<p><br/>She stiffened when he brushed her cheek with his knuckles. The brunette slipped out of his lap like he had burned her, her hands smoothing her skirt back into place and buttoning her shirt up. </p>
<p><br/>“I- I don’t…” There was a tremble to her voice, her words sounding constricted. “I don’t know how to deal with you like this…”</p>
<p><br/>His jaw tensed. He was almost afraid to ask, “Like what?”</p>
<p><br/>“Like soft and, and <em>passionate</em> and putting your safety in jeopardy for me! It- It’s just… It was… straightforward before, when I hated you, and you hated me…” She met his angry gaze, looking for answers that her brilliant mind didn’t seem to be able to conjure up, apparently. </p>
<p><br/>“You have to be kidding me, witch. You <em>know</em> I haven’t been fucking you for the hell of it, hard and carelessly like in the beginning for weeks! But that only became a problem <em>now</em>?”</p>
<p><br/>“It became a problem because you asked me to do something I told you I didn’t want!”</p>
<p><br/>“Stop, Hermione, just <em>stop</em>! Stop lying to the both of us already! It became a problem because you realized that I'm right! Because you <em>do</em> want to kiss me and you <em>do</em> want passionate! Because you feel whatever the hell it is for me! Otherwise you wouldn’t have come here asking if I’d tried to protect you back in the pitch. Why would you fucking do that if you wanted anything but for us to stop this charade and come clean?”</p>
<p><br/>It was truly something – seeing a Gryffindor deflating so pitifully on the spot. “I… I don't know. I don’t know <em>what</em> I wanted but-”</p>
<p><br/>“Well, colour me <em>unsurprised</em>. I could have told you that from the moment you walked through that door! That’s exactly what your problem is. You don’t know what you want, witch! You're so caught up in this version of me that you're supposed to hate, that you can’t see what’s in front of you! What, were you expecting me to <em>deny</em> it? Was the image in your head a Fourth Year Malfoy telling you to fuck off and that it was a pity the Bludger didn’t hit you, right before I shoved my fingers down your skirt?”</p>
<p><br/>She flinched at his crassness. “You can’t just Obliviate <em>Fourth Year Malfoy</em> from my head, Draco! I'm trying to get used to it, but it's years worth of abuse to bury in a couple of months!”</p>
<p><br/>“<em>Fuck</em>, and your answer to that is to throw the shovel away completely!?” He gestured wildly, his fingers fisting in his hair when she lowered her eyes with a wince and without comment.</p>
<p><br/>Hermione Granger officially had no words to utter and he had too many.</p>
<p><br/>It was most sodding definitely not a good day.</p>
<p><br/>“Draco?” He whirled around when Theo's voice broke the trance, his apprehensive stare on the scene before him, studying the two of them like they had each sprouted an extra head. “What uh-… What's going on? What is <em>she</em> doing here?”</p>
<p><br/>Draco pinned the Gryffindor with an unyielding glare, daring her to use her innate bravado. To get it over with and let Hogwarts know.</p>
<p><br/>But… if she hadn’t admitted it to herself, how did he expect her to extend the courtesy to anyone else?</p>
<p><br/>“Nothing to worry about. Obviously.”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p><br/><br/>As it turned out, he would have to flay Weasley as well.</p>
<p><br/>For a couple of weeks now, his mood hadn’t been the most joyous. He was crammed in school work. Pansy was constantly glued to his side. His father didn’t care that he was crammed. Blaise cared too much that Pansy clung to him. Potter existed, in general. </p>
<p><br/>Truth be told, anyone who dared to utter a word in his direction annoyed him to hell and back and to hell again.</p>
<p><br/>“Bake sale tonight, Malfoy?” asked Crabbe. </p>
<p><br/>Crabbe was a <em>shite</em>-eating, pork sword-looking, egg-shaped <em>mingebag</em> who-</p>
<p><br/>“Later, yeah?” Theo sat next to him abruptly, one arm flung around Draco's shoulders while the other swatted Crabbe away, effectively dismissing him. “Down, boy,” he added, his words now directed at the blond Slytherin. “You looked like you were about to chop him up and serve him with honey glaze.”</p>
<p><br/>Draco let out a grunt. “Not in the mood, Theo.”</p>
<p><br/>“When <em>are</em> you in the mood, lately?” Theo stared, inspecting him with curiosity. “You know, I liked you better when you were focused on your… <em>studies</em>. You might wanna consider restarting your late night rendezvouses. We'd all thank you for it, really.”</p>
<p><br/>Draco couldn’t bother to shoot him a glare, the less than gentle shrug of his shoulders enough to have his dorm mate back off with a chuckle.</p>
<p><br/>The two of them hadn’t talked about it, though Draco was positive Theo had figured it out already. Quite possibly the very instant he walked in on him and Granger a month ago. For some reason, he didn’t pressure him to spill it, and Draco was content with having to merely dismiss his double entendres and compassionate glances. Which was, incidentally, the reason he was the only half-tolerable person in his life at the moment.</p>
<p><br/>“<em>Honestly</em>, Ronald-” Draco struggled not to react to the sound of the hushed voice as soon as it slipped through the door, fully aware of the pair of eyes scrutinizing him. “You’re both impossibly irresponsible! You <em>know</em> Harry can’t afford to miss classes! Snape is already on his case! How do you both expect to pass your NEWT's?”</p>
<p><br/><em>Ah, the bearer of all my pain, gracing me with some good news for a change</em>, he thought cynically. </p>
<p><br/>Draco had learned to find joy in the little things. Not having to see Potter's face in class was a clear win in his book. So was hexing Weasley when he wasn’t looking. Or closing his Arithmancy book on Friday. Taking flight on the Quidditch pitch after hours. The scent of apples. Freesia and pepper perfume. </p>
<p><br/><em>Fuck,</em> he missed her.</p>
<p><br/>As if he’d just begged to prolong the torture, the familiar floral scent wafted to his nose, followed by the faint graze of black robes against his arm. The Gryffindor pair inspected the room for any other vacant tables besides the one in front of his on Slytherin’s side of the classroom. Both were clearly eager to bolt elsewhere, <em>anywhere</em> else – the Weaslebee out of pure disfavor; Granger out of something else – but unfortunately for them, their luck was running short.</p>
<p><br/>Draco unashamedly lifted his eyes from the table, trailing leisurely up her body until they were boring into hers. </p>
<p><br/>She wore that faint dusting of a rosy blush he'd see every time they were in the same room together for the past few weeks. It was pure torment. Watching her golden irises give way to pitch black when they met his own. A tamer version of the delirium-induced state that only he knew so well.</p>
<p><br/>Draco gestured languidly to the seats in front of his and Theo's, never removing his gaze from hers. </p>
<p><br/><em>Come on, Granger</em>, he thought as a tired smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. <em>You should be fine with being close to me…</em></p>
<p><br/>“Would either of you care for an invitation?” Snape drawled out as he strutted inside the classroom, thankfully before Draco had a chance to direct a jab along the same lines to the two Gryffindors. “Take… your seats.”</p>
<p><br/>Granger hurried to one of the unoccupied chairs, stumbling a bit on her way. Yet another simple day-to-day pleasure of his – how nervous he got her around him.</p>
<p><br/>“We'll be picking up where we left off last time. And by that, I most certainly do not mean I'll be expecting a restatement of your <em>miserable</em> attempts to scratch the surface of the fine art of Occlumency. <em>Surely</em>… you've all put work into it, in the meantime,” the DADA professor intoned while making his way to the front and gesturing towards the tray of vials that was suddenly enchanted to float down the room. “Each of you take one clear vial and one purple. Form groups with the people closest to you.”</p>
<p><br/>Had Potter been in attendance, he was sure the intent of the exercise Snape had planned for the class would have been questioned already. With that not being the case, they were none the wiser.</p>
<p><br/>Weasley spun around with an irritated huff, glaring at both him and Theo like they had personally offended him. “Guess that's that. Come on, Hermione.”</p>
<p><br/>She followed suit after a drawn-out intake of breath. Draco held his own as well when she dragged her chair closer to the table, the wonderful scent of his Amortentia engulfing his senses. <em>Fuck</em>, why did she have to choose the spot across from him?</p>
<p><br/>“A grasp of the techniques used to resist mind controlling potions and curses is a prominent part of the syllabus for this year,” Snape started while the class still shuffled around. “Hence our focus on Occlumency for the better part of the last three lessons. <em>Regrettably</em>…  none of you seem to have tapped into the prowess it takes to use it against Legilimency, as of yet. So, we'll be <em>restarting</em> small. Perhaps a truth serum will be achievable within your capabilities at the moment.”</p>
<p><br/>Draco expected the gasp of shock and the accompanying mithering from the witch in front of him, of course. </p>
<p><br/>“But… Sir, the use of Veritaserum on students is forbidden…” she murmured, without raising her hand.</p>
<p><br/>“Your propensity for jumping to conclusions remains as sound as your inability to <em>not</em> interrupt, Miss Granger,” Snape snapped. “It is forbidden and highly regulated, which is why we'll be using a modified truth serum, child’s play, much weaker than Veritaserum and fully concurrent with Hogwarts and the Ministry’s guidelines. The purple vials carry the antidote, so you may take it should your feeble attempts at Occlumency fail. Will that be sufficient to appease your concerns?”</p>
<p><br/>Granger nodded wordlessly and turned back to the table, her eyes still downcast. Draco, for his part, wasn't entirely sure he liked the way Theo's glinted with mischief.</p>
<p><br/>“I expect you all to keep it within reason. Any ruckus, and you'll find yourselves in detention for the next two weeks. Do… I make… myself… <em>clear</em>?” Snape surveyed the room and received a collective nod in reply. “Begin. I will start monitoring the groups from here and work my way down.”</p>
<p><br/>With a sigh of resignation, Draco directed his attention towards his group. It couldn’t get much worse than this. Well, perhaps. If Potter was around. Or his father was watching. In front of him was the bloody witch that occupied his thoughts for the better part of three months now. To his right, his insufferably cheeky mate who <em>just</em> so happened to be perfectly aware that the Gryffindor princess had him wrapped around her finger. Sat kitty-corner from him was the whiny-ass, freckle-faced, gingerbread-looking <em>cunt</em>-</p>
<p><br/><em>Fuck</em>, Theo was right.</p>
<p><br/>“I, for one, avidly advocate we sow our wild coats while the overgrown bat isn’t paying attention,” Theo finally broke the silence.</p>
<p><br/>That was a ghastly idea if Draco ever heard one.</p>
<p><br/>“Fat sodding chance, Nott,” Weasley grunted.</p>
<p><br/>Well, <em>now</em> he kind of wanted to do it.</p>
<p><br/>Draco groaned and noticed Granger tensing in response. “Let’s just get this over with, yeah? No overly personal questions.”</p>
<p><br/>“Well, what’s the point if we just ask about things we wouldn’t mind answering? The goal is to fight the serum,” Theo insisted while appraising Draco with amusement.</p>
<p><br/>“Might I remind you that I've known you since we were five and my grasp on your personal life is nothing short of vast?”</p>
<p><br/>“And I haven’t known you for that long but I have no qualms in putting whatever knowledge we gain from this little conclave to good use,” Granger added with a raised brow.</p>
<p><br/>Theo held his hands up in defeat. “<em>Fine</em>, fine. I'll go easy…” he said with a small smirk before quickly adding under his breath. “…<em>on Draco</em>. Anyways, Weasel, care to do the honors?”</p>
<p><br/>Weasley muttered something unintelligible but ended up assenting with a sure swing of the vial of transparent serum. </p>
<p><br/>“Try to deliberately lie about something.”</p>
<p><br/>“<em>Uhm</em>… like what?”</p>
<p><br/>Granger shrugged. “What's your name?”</p>
<p><br/>Weasley nearly chocked, the effects of the serum clearly in full swing already. “R-… <em>eung</em>- R-on Weasley…”</p>
<p><br/>Theo grinned. “Seems like it's working. Now, on to the fun ones!”</p>
<p><br/>Draco snorted. “You do know we can just argue the sky is green for the same effect, right?”</p>
<p><br/>“You wouldn’t put up much of a fight to deny the truth in that case. See how easily he gave in?” Theo explained while picking imaginary dirt from under his nails. </p>
<p><br/>“Eh- he might be right, actually,” Granger reluctantly agreed. “That sort of restraint comes from within and we're much more inclined to fight tooth and nail, on a subconscious level, if it's something that affects us personally.”</p>
<p><br/>The brunette quivered under the stern glare Draco shot her with.<em> Of course</em>, she would end up complying. For the sake of <em>knowledge</em>.</p>
<p><br/>“See? This, amongotherreasons, is exactly why you're my favorite Gryffindor, Granger,” Theo winked playfully before turning his attention to Weasley. “I’ll ask: what do you think about Slytherins?”</p>
<p><br/>He barely tried. “You’re all scum.”</p>
<p><br/>“Very good. Now, watch this. Who did you beat the meat to in the shower this morning?”</p>
<p><br/>Weasley coughed up a lung and Granger's flush began rivaling the wanker's hair color. Pun fully intended.</p>
<p><br/>“I- <em>didn’t</em>!” Weasley said without difficulty. </p>
<p><br/>Theo grinned maliciously. “But if you had, who would it be?”</p>
<p><br/>“<em>Nott</em>!” Granger hissed. </p>
<p><br/>Draco raised his brows and thinned his lips out in a silent 'told ya'.</p>
<p><br/>“I- <em>fuck</em>- Her-” Weasley's eyes widened in panic, his fingers frantically uncorking the antidote vial and gulping it down in one go before anyone understood.</p>
<p><br/>Draco understood perfectly. </p>
<p><br/>“Not the whole thing, Ronald!” Granger looked around to see if Snape had noticed the commotion, before scowling at Theo. “Another one of those… just <em>one</em> more!”</p>
<p><br/>The threat was clear as day and Theo knew it. “Fine. But Weaslebee here is clearly not ready. You’re up, Granger.”</p>
<p><br/>Her eyes narrowed in defiance. “Why, oh why, are <em>you</em> our self-appointed executioner?”</p>
<p><br/>“Because I'm the only impartial party in this mess,” Theo explained like it was obvious, and Draco filed a mental note to kick him in the groin later. “<em>Come on</em>. I'll play nice!”</p>
<p><br/>“You said that before,” Weasley, who had regained full control of his faculties, grunted. “We’ll see how <em>you</em> like it when it's your turn!” </p>
<p><br/>“Fortunately enough for me, unlike every single one of you at this table, <em>I</em> have nothing to hide and no shame to my name,” he finished proudly.</p>
<p><br/>Draco filed another mental note, this one reminding him that he was in desperate need for new mates.</p>
<p><br/>An exasperated huff left Granger's throat. “Don’t. <em>Push it,</em>” she said, popping the cork on the vial of serum.</p>
<p><br/>“Great.” Theo leaned forward on his arms and Draco braced for impact. “Why do you study so hard?”</p>
<p><br/>That…was not what he was expecting.</p>
<p><br/>Granger looked confused, with good reason. “To-... I- To prove myself- That one's stupid, Nott! It's harder to compartmentalize if I have to make an effort to come up with a false narrative at the same time.”</p>
<p><br/>“Patience. But I'll indulge you. Yes or no, then,” he agreed. “You were saying? To prove yourself? Why? Because you're Muggle-born?”</p>
<p><br/>Draco stole a glance at her – holding his breath for an answer – and was rather relieved to watch her struggling to <em>confirm</em> Theo's assessment. Evidently, even years of undeserved taunting didn’t do a thing to a lioness' confidence. </p>
<p><br/>It was certainly unsettling, the feeling of clashing emotions swirling in his chest. Shame and pride. Two polar opposites.</p>
<p><br/>Draco briefly wondered if he could be coming down with something.</p>
<p><br/>“Ye-… I-… <em>argh</em>! No. No…” she finally breathed out, giving up on fighting the serum. “To prove myself to <em>myself</em>. Pureblooded plonkers' opinions aside.”</p>
<p><br/>Draco never felt happier at being called a Pure-blooded plonker. </p>
<p><br/>Sod it, he already knew he had it bad.</p>
<p><br/>“Do you think all Purebloods think like that?”</p>
<p><br/>Granger softened beautifully, her head shaking in denial. “No. No, I don’t.”</p>
<p><br/>“You’re not trying hard enough, Granger,” Theo warned. “So, you don’t agree with your dimwitted friend about Slytherins, do you?”</p>
<p><br/>“<em>Watch it</em>, Nott!” Weasley snarled.</p>
<p><br/>For some reason, the final leg of Theo's remark carried a heavier weight than the first, despite the change in tone. It felt foreboding. Like he was playing her like a fiddle and getting ready to bring out the big wands should she continue to not put the effort in. </p>
<p><br/>“N-… <em>eung</em>, darn it!” Granger closed her eyes and took a deep, calming breath. </p>
<p><br/>“Come on, Hermione, you can do it! You were almost there!” </p>
<p><br/>Weasley really was dimwitted. Draco couldn’t help but chuckle, knowing the git believed the 'no' she almost whispered equaled success.</p>
<p><br/>“No! I- I don’t agree,” she whimpered, and the following groan of frustration perfectly conveyed how annoyed she was at herself for failing yet again.</p>
<p><br/>“Bloody hell, Hermione! You did it!”</p>
<p><br/>Draco suppressed a laugh, lowering his eyes to regain composure before exchanging glances with Theo and Granger – a little secret only the three of them were in on.</p>
<p><br/>She wouldn’t correct the Weasel. They would move on with the exercise, and her Occlumency skills would remain none the greater. So much for the sake of knowledge.</p>
<p><br/>“Then what's holding you back?” </p>
<p><br/>He froze as Theo prodded, his intentions crystal-clear.</p>
<p><br/>“<em>Theo</em>…” Draco's voice plumbed to a dangerous growl.</p>
<p><br/>Granger had stilled, her hands fidgeting around the bottle of antidote.</p>
<p><br/>“What's holding you back, Granger?” Theo punctuated each word carefully.</p>
<p><br/>Storm-ridden eyes shifted to hers, awaiting a reaction. The Gryffindor seemed to be hanging fire as well. He heard her gulp.</p>
<p><br/>“What’re you on about?” Weasley frowned. “What’s the context supposed to be?”</p>
<p><br/>The effect didn’t kick in when the statement was too broad, Draco realized with a shaky sigh of relief. He couldn’t risk it anymore. Theo was getting his bottom dragged out of the classroom and hexed to a pulp. </p>
<p><br/>“Let me narrow it down, then. You fancy him, don’t you?”</p>
<p><br/>Her hand clamped on the purple vial.</p>
<p><br/>“<em>Fucking</em> hell, Theo!” Draco hissed, but found himself drawn to her eyes. </p>
<p><br/>The twin hazel orbs darted from Draco to the antidote, and repeated the process once more when nothing happened. It was too vague. Again, it was too <em>fucking</em> vague, even if she knew exactly who she was being asked about. </p>
<p><br/>Draco wasn’t sure he wanted it any other way. Had Theo upped the monumentality of his prickness just a notch, he would be getting a <em>very</em> honest answer.</p>
<p><br/>But she opened her mouth. Willingly. And his heart somersaulted.</p>
<p><br/>“Don’t answer that, Hermione!” Weasley sneered. “What's it to you, Nott?! That's between Hermione and I, and you've embarrassed the both of us enough as it is. She already beat the serum, so let's move along, yeah?”</p>
<p>
  <em>Freckle-faced, gingerbread-looking fucking cunt indeed.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Granting himself time to think about the Muggle-born witch was asking for trouble. He had done a fairly good job of steering clear of that particular subject for the last few weeks, and he would be damned if he let his control slip. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <em>She was going to say something… She would answer out of her own volition… Did she- oh bloody hell.</em>
</p>
<p><br/>Perhaps a 'fairly good job' was an overstatement. </p>
<p><br/>Draco pushed a hand through his hair and gripped the roots tight, his face planting on the table dejectedly. He reckoned seeking refuge in the library, Granger's natural habitat, wasn’t the brightest idea he'd ever cooked up, but the corner he'd chosen for himself was secluded enough. </p>
<p><br/>After a while, he deemed safe to return to the Slytherin dorms. For one, he didn’t feel like participating in the chit-chatting about next weekend's Hogsmeade trip that was for sure to take place at dinner. He also didn’t feel like being sent to Azkaban for murdering Theo when he found him. </p>
<p><br/>A few wizards sprinkled here, a couple there, but the walk back to the dungeons was uneventful enough. <br/>That is, if he didn’t account for being roughly pulled inside an alcove just as he was about to take the final corner, of course.</p>
<p><br/>“What in the <em>fuck</em>-”</p>
<p><br/>“Hush!”</p>
<p><br/>Draco's eyes narrowed at the petite brunette in front of him. “What in the <em>bloody</em> hell is <em>wrong</em> with you, witch?”</p>
<p><br/>Granger ignored him in favor of charming the arched opening for sound and sight before turning back with a glare. “You’ve got in the habit of skipping dinner…”</p>
<p><br/>“You’ve got in the habit of annoying me while I'm doing it,” Draco spat, taking in the sight of the fuming Gryffindor.</p>
<p><br/>“Maybe if you hadn’t hidden Merlin-knows-where for the whole afternoon, I wouldn’t have to crowd you now,” she argued, crossing her arms under her chest.</p>
<p><br/>His eyes darkened. “I don’t bloody <em>hide,</em> Granger. You should know that by now. Not wanting to deal with anyone today, especially <em>you</em>, doesn’t constitute a grand plan of camouflage.”</p>
<p><br/>She flinched at his tone but quickly regained her composure. “Care to share where you were <em>not</em> camouflaging, then?”</p>
<p><br/>“No, I don’t care for that, actually,” he drawled. “But I'll humour you. If only to see your pretty little face scrunched up in astonishment. I was at the library finishing the Runes assignment. An utter bombshell! Please alert the elders!”</p>
<p><br/>Her eyelids dropped as she took a deep steadying breath. “I'm going to sidestep your persnicketiness and tell you that, if playing ostrich was your intention, you're not in the clear yet. Crabbe and Goyle, at least, still haven’t gone upstairs.”</p>
<p><br/>He could usually tell by the static in her hair when she was flaring up. From what she'd told him, the sign that he may be rapidly losing <em>his</em> temper wasn’t as evident. </p>
<p><br/>Draco stepped into her personal space, towering over her, to get the point vividly across. </p>
<p><br/>“Playing ostrich, huh? That's an amusing little Muggle expression. One of my personal favourites would be the one about the pot and the kettle. Though I don’t quite peg you for the embodiment of self-awareness, so I'll spare you the mental gymnastics.”</p>
<p><br/>Granger groaned, her eyes flaring. “I haven’t been hiding either! What's <em>with</em> you, anyway?! You're acting more insufferable than usual, and that’s saying something, Draco.”</p>
<p><br/>The Slytherin snorted. “That’s rich, coming from you, in our current predicament. You thought you got to shove me in here and tap your foot like an angry five-year-old and not get it back in the same coin?”</p>
<p><br/>“I’m frustrated! I've been looking for you all day!”</p>
<p><br/>“I've been frustrated for the past <em>month</em>, Granger. You're gonna have to try harder to one-up me on this one.”</p>
<p><br/>That appeared to put the fire out a bit, though her words didn’t lose their edge. “Merlin, I’m not trying to do that! I'm not playing any games... I just needed space to think things over. I told you before… It's just- it's hard to just flick the switch and put everything behind us.”</p>
<p><br/>Draco felt his jaw clenching. <em>Space</em>. And loads of time, clearly. “You’re not telling me anything new, Granger. So, let's just drop the subject, shall we?”</p>
<p><br/>“No!” she groaned, taking a step closer to him. “That’s exactly what I'm trying to tell you! Something <em>new.</em> I… What happened this morning in class- I- don’t want you to think anything of what Ron said…”</p>
<p><br/>The sadistic laugh that erupted from his chest rang in the little air between them before he could stop it. “You think I'm worried you're fucking Weasley?”</p>
<p><br/>Granger always blinked in shock whenever he freely let the obscenities out. Sure enough, three rapid ones, accompanied by a shaky intake of breath. </p>
<p><br/>“You’re not…” she chanced, trying to follow. </p>
<p><br/>Draco smirked snidely. “I'm not. I know you too well already, love. Nevermind the obvious, which you're still trying to avoid like an Unforgivable. Your breathing quickens whenever you're near me. Your hands tremble around the quill. You wouldn’t touch any of the blokes here with a barge pole while you're so obviously suffering from the withdrawal symptoms of <em>me</em> not touching you.”</p>
<p><br/>He was being a git. A very small, reasonable part of him told him not to push her buttons. The part that hurt and was used to hide behind overconfidence, however, didn’t listen.</p>
<p><br/>“You're awfully sure of yourself,” she sneered, obviously embarrassed by his statement.</p>
<p><br/>He felt himself stalking closer to her, hands safely tucked inside his pockets. “I’ll bet you the Malfoy Gringott's vault as you'd offer no resistance if I decided to rip your pretty Gryffindor uniform right now and ram you into the wall until your throat was raw from screaming.”</p>
<p><br/><em>Fuck</em>, he shouldn’t have said that. Not when her tongue came out to moisten her lips and her legs staggered back in response. </p>
<p><br/>“That’s not why I was looking for you,” she whispered, not removing her line of sight from his mouth. “I-… I was- worried.”</p>
<p><br/>Draco felt his feet freezing to the ground, his body heavier than ever. He remembered that conversation <em>oh</em> so well. Only too well.</p>
<p><br/>“We’ve covered that. I know Weasley was wishful thinking,” he scorned and readied himself for what he was about to say next. “And, frankly, I don’t want to hear it right now, Granger. I didn’t this morning when you were under the influence of a truth serum, and I don’t now when you can’t do it without stuttering.”</p>
<p><br/>Granger flinched like he had stung her. <em>Good</em>. “It wasn’t the serum! Not when Nott asked me if I- if I fancied you!” The high pitch of her voice lowered to a soft murmur. “I was going to… I almost did. But- I didn’t want to. Not in front of them.”</p>
<p><br/>He could almost taste it – pent-up anger washing over his rationality and drowning the part of him that understood what she was trying to convey. He was done being <em>understanding</em>. It wasn’t in his nature, either way.</p>
<p><br/>“<em>Right</em>, that's the thing, isn’t it?” Draco mocked with a sneer. “This will always be a dirty little secret to you. Thank <em>Salazar</em> you had one of your heroes there to save you from admitting to want to dip your foot in the snake pit. What would they think of the Gryffindor princess if they knew she was being so thoroughly <em>fucked</em> by the pride and joy of Slytherin that her blood was practically running green?”</p>
<p><br/>That was the last straw. Her eyes welled up with tears, yet she refused to let them fall. </p>
<p><br/>“You <em>jerk!</em> I don’t need heroes-”</p>
<p><br/>She didn’t get time to protest. Draco slammed her against the cold wall behind her, his body hard and unyielding against hers, pinning her in place. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><br/>“You <em>do</em> need heroes. You just don’t <em>want</em> them. You want what's bad for you, don’t you, Granger?” he whispered harshly, his breath mingling with hers. “That’s why it's okay for Potter to take a Bludger for you but if<em> I</em> do it, you ‘don’t know how to deal with me’.”</p>
<p><br/>She squirmed against him, her hands fastened on his robes. “That’s not what it is…”</p>
<p><br/>“Sure it is. Didn’t you say it was so much easier before? That you didn’t want gentle and <em>passionate</em>?” Draco emphasized by gripping her left thigh in his large hand and pushing it to the side until he could slip his own between her legs.</p>
<p><br/>Being a great deal shorter than him, Granger practically sat on his knee, the position leaving her in the uncomfortable predicament of either relaxing fully into him, or attempting to pull herself up and closer to his face. She chose the latter.</p>
<p><br/>“You’re reading this all wrong!” Her protests withered to a soft cry when he pressed his thigh firmly to her core.</p>
<p><br/>“Am I?” Draco felt anger burning brighter and hotter in his chest, the pent-up agony of the past month's torture without her hitting him in full force.</p>
<p><br/>His fingers dug on the flesh of her arse with wild, repressed need and dragged her roughly up against him.</p>
<p><br/>“Y-yes!” she cried pitifully, her eyes shutting tight at the feel of the tense muscles of his leg rubbing between her parted thighs. “<em>Please</em>, I can’t- not like this again…”</p>
<p><br/>He ignored her, too strung up on the warm scent of her perfume mixed with her heady arousal to care. <em>Fuck</em>, he missed her <em>so</em> fucking much, and he hated it.</p>
<p><br/>Hated <em>her</em>.</p>
<p><br/>“Tell me, then. Tell me you don’t want me to make you come without bothering to take your knickers off, like that night at the pitch,” he rasped out, ripping her hands from around his collar and holding them above her head. “The Malfoy that <em>hated</em> you back then didn’t care that your hands ached from gripping the railings so hard.”</p>
<p><br/>The witch whimpered wantonly against him, a trace of pain on her features as he forcefully dug her soft wrists into the wall. </p>
<p><br/>“Tell me you don’t want me to eat you out in an uncharmed classroom, where anyone could walk in, where I <em>wanted</em> someone to walk in.” A shudder ran down her body as he lifted her jumper and unbuttoned the white blouse underneath. “<em>That</em> Malfoy held you down so you couldn’t muffle your cries. So someone would come and look. So they could see you shivering under me. So you'd be humiliated.”</p>
<p><br/>Feverish, pliant and silk-soft to the touch. Her skin tasted like vanilla and sin on his tongue. Draco yanked the dusty rose bra down, the distinctive sound of a rip and the jiggle of her pillowy tits sending a shot of liquid lust to his cock. </p>
<p><br/>“<em>Fuck</em>, Granger,” he growled before enveloping one of her tight peaks into his awaiting mouth and sucking until she arched her back with a cry to get more of her flesh inside. “Why don’t you tell me? Why don’t you admit that you want me burying my cock in you and have you convulsing around me again and again while I laugh at your inexperience? While I whisper how I’d like Potter and Weasley to watch. While I tell you you're just a prize to parade in front of them.”</p>
<p><br/>Granger whined when he released her with an obscene <em>pop</em>, her eyes ravenous and wounded and russet in colour. Her lips parted, no doubt to tell him off, but he quickly hushed her by slipping his hand under her skirt and pushing her knickers to the side so his fingers could languidly glide up her slit.</p>
<p><br/>“<em>Merlin</em>…” </p>
<p><br/>His forehead dropped against hers, making her swallow any words she had on the tip of her tongue, ready to be moaned out. The petite witch gulped and her eyes instinctively travelled down until they were longing after his lips. </p>
<p><br/>“Look how <em>soaked</em> you are. You <em>do</em> want that, don’t you, Granger?” He gathered her wetness to spread it up to her clit- “You want me to want you like that.” -then flattened his palm to rub her roughly- “You want me not wanting to kiss you.” -before grazing her opening until she quivered with the need to be stuffed and removing his hand completely to push his hips against her sensitive center. “You want me to <em>fuck</em> you like I hate you.”</p>
<p><br/>Hands curled into small fists, she hit his chest with as much strength as she could muster.</p>
<p><br/>“I do hate you! I hate you so <em>fucking</em> much, you prick! You impossible jerk! That's what you want me to say, isn’t it!? I fucking <em>hate</em> you, Malfoy!”</p>
<p><br/><em>Malfoy</em>…</p>
<p><br/>Before his heart betrayed him and his lips descended on hers like a starved man's, he spun her around and held her against the stone wall, her hands bracing the impact.</p>
<p><br/>Draco couldn’t risk it. Couldn’t allow himself to look into her eyes as he touched her. It would be so, so easy. All he had to do was tilt her head back and take her like he wanted. </p>
<p><br/>But he hated her at the moment. Almost as much as she hated him.</p>
<p><br/>“You keep telling yourself that,” he whispered in her ear.</p>
<p><br/>In that instant, he didn’t know who the taunt was aimed at.</p>
<p><br/>He noticed she heard the clicking of his belt, her fingers curling on the fabric of her sleeves against the wall, her breathing faltering for a second. </p>
<p><br/>“You’re so good, love,” he purred, knowing fully well she'd see the endearment as a barb. “ Even when you want to carve the lungs out of my chest with your bare hands, you obey so well, don’t you?”</p>
<p><br/>Granger bit back a response behind her stubborn scowl. Without warning, he grabbed her hips and pulled them back against his pelvis, angling her <em>just</em> right. </p>
<p><br/>“<em>Ahh! Godric</em>- I-… yes…”</p>
<p><br/>“Good girl,” he praised, sinking to his knees behind her and taking her knickers off. </p>
<p><br/>The fabric of her skirt was immediately flipped up to uncover her quivering hips, the pale dewy expanse of her arse and swollen cunt drawing a deep groan out of him. Giving her no time for a protest that he knew wouldn’t come either way, his mouth latched onto her flesh, where her thigh met the soft globe, and gave it a hard suck. Her legs reacted by giving out, forcing him to tighten his grip on her arse to hold her upright. </p>
<p><br/>“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He grunted, hungry for the taste of her which he got in the form of a long, hard lick from her glistening slit to her puckered hole. “<em>Ah</em>, fuck Granger. You drive me mad… You're so fucking perfect, witch. I’ve always told you that, haven’t I?”</p>
<p><br/>She couldn’t form a coherent sentence between her labored breaths. He was sure her thoughts mirrored the jumbled mess, but she was sorely mistaken if she thought she would be getting a reprieve.</p>
<p><br/>Draco shoved his tongue into her folds, making her cry and attempt to pull away from him. “Answer me, witch.”</p>
<p><br/>“<em>Yes</em>! Yes- <em>please</em>, don’t stop… I can’t- take it-  anymore… It's- too <em>long- Ahh</em>!”</p>
<p><br/><em>Devour her</em>, his mind screamed, and he did just that. His tongue delved between her pink lips, sucking them into his mouth like candy and releasing with primal grunts. With one arm laced around her thighs to keep her in place, he was left with one good hand to spread her cheeks and give him room to bury his face in her softness. </p>
<p><br/>He missed her. <em>Salazar</em>, he missed her to the point where it physically hurt. </p>
<p><br/>Draco felt possessed. He was greedily lapping up her juices and urging her to keep producing more. Alternating between light nibbles and harsh sucks. Circling her entrance without entering, and pressing her clit with barely any pressure. She cried, and pleaded to him, to <em>Merlin</em>, to any deity that wanted to hear her and save her from the sweet, excruciating torture.</p>
<p><br/>“Please, <em>Draco</em>…”</p>
<p><br/>His eyes snapped open. Little by little, the fog dissipated and his ministrations slowed to a near stop. Back to Draco, was she? </p>
<p><br/>Too bad he wasn’t Draco to her right now.</p>
<p><br/>The scream that tore from her throat as he violently resumed the assault on her already sensitive form had him hardening even more. She trembled, and mewled, and whispered pleas of mercy, of a final shove to tip her body into the precipice.</p>
<p><br/>So close… <em>so fucking close,</em> she didn’t have to whimper for him to know. </p>
<p><br/>Then, he stopped. </p>
<p><br/>“I- <em>no,</em>” Granger cried, disoriented and helpless, her legs squirming as he got up from the floor and left her on the edge of her orgasm. “Why did-? No, <em>please</em>…”</p>
<p><br/>He ripped her left hand, which had shot desperately down her navel, from between her thighs, before securing the other against the wall. His height allowed him to hold her down comfortably, front pressed along her back. </p>
<p><br/>“Stop, Granger.”</p>
<p><br/>Her neck cranked so she could gift him with the most defiant glare he'd ever seen her sport. “Stop? Why did <em>you</em> stop?”</p>
<p><br/>Draco felt a perverse sense of power when realization dawned on her as the sound of his fly opening filled the small space. It all boiled down to this.</p>
<p><br/>“You think <em>Malfoy</em> would let you come?” he asked, gravelly and with just the right amount of scorn, like he had used with her in the beginning. “After leaving him dry for a whole month and proclaiming to <em>hate</em> him – you think you'd get your cunt sucked to completion?”</p>
<p><br/>She punished her bottom lip between her teeth, but eventually released it to give him an earned earful.</p>
<p><br/>“You! You monumental <em>git</em>!” Granger struggled against his hold, her anger dissipating momentarily as he pressed his rock-hard cock into her. “If you're not gonna touch me, then let me- <em>Ahh</em>!”</p>
<p><br/>Draco glided the tip of his length through her folds. </p>
<p><br/>“Who do you want, Granger?”</p>
<p><br/>She shuddered, her mouth closing as she gulped. “What?”</p>
<p><br/>“Who...” he coaxed, languorously circling her entrance to gather her wetness before dragging it slowly up her slit. “… do you want?”</p>
<p><br/>“<em>Fuck</em>-” Granger rarely swore, but when she did, it stirred a beast within him. “Please, stop teasing…”</p>
<p><br/>Draco gripped her hips, enough to bruise, when she tried to rock back against him. Then, slid up her soaked cunt harder.</p>
<p><br/>“<em>Godric</em>! Please!” she sobbed loudly. “<em>You</em>… I want you…”</p>
<p><br/>Setting a painstakingly slow rhythm, Draco let his head fall back at the sensation of brushing against her slick flesh. “No. <em>Who</em> do you want?”</p>
<p><br/>“What the hell do you mean?” She bit back, confused and clearly desperate for instructions. </p>
<p><br/>“Who, Granger?” Draco gritted out as his head stretched her tight entrance. “Who do you want fucking you? Who do you want stretching you open until it hurts? Pounding your sweet, tight, little body into oblivion?”</p>
<p><br/>“<em>You</em>!” She was near tears.</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <em>Which me?</em>
</p>
<p><br/>Draco stilled behind her. “And who am I, Granger?”</p>
<p><br/>Her eyes, clouded with delirium, opened to half-mast to reclaim some of their lucidity. His fingers tensed on her waist as he struggled not to move them to the delicate curve of her neck when she turned to peek at him. </p>
<p><br/>It was different, her gaze.</p>
<p><br/>“Draco,” she breathed softly. “I want Draco…”</p>
<p><br/>His control snapped. The warm, rich scent of diluted spice from her perfume encased him as he brushed her unruly locks to the side and buried his nose in her neck, at the same time as his cock plunged into her. A guttural groan slipped past his lips and he heard her whimper in response.</p>
<p><br/>“Never again, witch,” he warned, low and commanding into her ear. “I can’t not have you for this long…” </p>
<p><br/>“That makes t-two of us,” she cried as he picked up the pace, unsatisfied with her ability to speak. “Never…” </p>
<p><br/>Draco had to hold her hips still to keep him from jamming her into the wall with the force of his thrusts. She let him, abandoning all manner of power and clawing at the cold stone for balance. His eyes trailed downward to where their bodies met, to watch the sensuous stretch of her lips as they engulfed his swollen cock, her juices glistening on the shaft when he dipped inside her and pulled back. Dipped and pulled back. Again, and <em>again</em>, and her walls tightened impossibly around him, trying to milk him dry. </p>
<p><br/>“Do you wanna come or are you playing dirty, Hermione?” He punished her with a powerful thrust that pressed her flush into the cold stone. </p>
<p><br/>“<em>No</em>! <em>Merlin</em>, I'm n-not,” she whined, teeth sunk deep into her bruised lip. “I’m close! <em>Draco</em>…”</p>
<p><br/>A half-smile stretched his lips. “Didn’t you touch yourself- <em>fuck</em>…without me? This whole time?”</p>
<p><br/>For a moment, he didn’t think she'd answer. Hermione Granger was a sight. Lips parted, tears gathered at the corner of her eyes, hands trembling from the strain as he rammed her from behind. So petite, and warm, and willing.</p>
<p><br/>He would never tire of the witch.</p>
<p><br/>“It’s- not- <em>Ahh!...</em>the same, I- <em>Draco</em>, please…” One of the shaky hands he'd been watching curled around his nape, pulling him closer to her own. “Let me- look at you. I need to see you…”</p>
<p><br/>Throwing caution to the wind, he immediately spun her around and grabbed a fistful of her silky thighs, lifting her like she weighed nothing and wrapping her around his waist. </p>
<p><br/>It was overwhelming and incredibly right – sinking into the dark depths of her eyes as he slowly, tortuously, slipped inside her again. They both shuddered, and Draco resumed the agonizing grind of his cock into her. </p>
<p><br/>Soon, she was a mumbling mess. A layer of sheen covered her skin, just enough to have the fine baby hairs around her forehead sticking to her beautiful face. She was close. Close enough he could count the freckles that sprinkled her nose. Close enough for him to see the flecks of golden that colored her irises. Close enough he could taste her sugary breaths on his own lips. </p>
<p><br/>“Draco?” She called, whimpered, and he noticed the way her orbs zeroed in on his parted mouth. </p>
<p><br/>Draco wondered how many seconds his heart was still for. It felt like an eternity and a half. He'd been waiting for it for so long. Waiting for her…</p>
<p><br/>It took everything in him to raise his neck and plant the kiss she’d been asking of him on her forehead instead.</p>
<p><br/>Hermione tensed in his arms but wasn’t granted the time to voice the question that he knew was on the tip of her tongue. He buried himself to the hilt, driving her up the wall. She could do nothing but cry out at the furious, punishing pace and cling to him like a lifeline. </p>
<p><br/>Draco heeded her pleas for him not to stop. <em>Never</em>, he offered back. </p>
<p><br/>“I- <em>I'm-</em>”</p>
<p><br/>“Hermione, let it go,” he grunted as she clenched around him, gripping and searing and her cries, and her scent and she <em>exploded</em>. “<em>Fuck</em>, t-that's it. Ah, keep going, love…”</p>
<p><br/>Her whole body convulsed against him, her arms so tightly laced around his neck that he was finding it hard to breathe. Draco was trapped, her walls spasming deliciously around his cock as he maintained their joint rhythm to have her ride it out while he was still inside her. It took everything in him not to drown in her fluids and desperate sobs. <br/>He'd been thirsty for far too long and had found his oasis. The trembling witch didn’t get time to come down from her high. Tired whines morphed rapidly and indistinguishably into wanton cries from the slow, steady thrusts of his length, still hard inside her. </p>
<p><br/>“Touch yourself,” he ordered, his voice rough and ragged. Gripping her arse for emphasis, he pounded into her with renewed vigor to prove he still had the strength to hold her. “You won't fall, I promise.”</p>
<p><br/>Quick to comply, she untangled her left hand from the back of his neck and slid it down to her clit, her fingers brushing against his shaft as he resumed furiously driving into her. So, <em>so</em> deep he felt the head of his cock hitting her center just right. </p>
<p><br/>“You’re gonna come again,” he ordered, a knowing smirk spreading his lips open when she bit her own and clenched tighter around him at the command. “<em>Fuck</em>, just like that. Do you know- <em>ah</em>, <em>fuck</em>- how hard you're trying to milk me, love?”</p>
<p><br/>She melted in his arms with a squeaky cry, yielding and soft under his ministrations. It drove him mad with lust, the complete submission of her pleasure to him, the offered trust in him to bring them both to the tipping point. Draco planned on fully delivering.</p>
<p><br/>With an animalistic groan that tore a whine out of her, he rammed her hard against the wall until she was screaming broken attempts at his name over and over.</p>
<p><br/>“<em>Fuck</em>, come for me, my love,” he grunted, his vision becoming blurry as pleasure ricocheted through him. “Scream my <em>fucking</em> name, Hermione! Tell me who's making you feel this way, who's fucking you so good!”</p>
<p><br/>It was enough to do her in. A strangled scream tumbled out of her lips as she came violently, her cunt squeezing him so tight he saw whole constellations behind his lids. Draco growled possessively and with one final bruising thrust emptied inside her, his jaw slacking as what felt like blinding lightning coursed up his spine.</p>
<p><br/>Hermione threw her head back and he followed by burying his face in her clavicle, the hot puffs of breath against her skin making her shiver. He saw her chest rising and falling in time with the now deliberate, circular motions he forced her hips to follow along with.</p>
<p><br/>“So good,” he whispered as she slowly came to, his own lucidity challenged by the mind-blowing orgasm she'd just given him.</p>
<p><br/>As much as he hated to acknowledge it, his muscles wouldn’t bear with him any longer. Practised manoeuvering of her body allowed him to slump to the floor with the small witch while keeping his length still inside her. Her breathing was evening out as the spasms of her sex slowed to a complete stop. When she thought he planned on untangling them, Hermione purposefully clenched around him.</p>
<p><br/>Good, he didn’t plan on going anywhere. </p>
<p><br/>“Draco?”</p>
<p><br/>“Hmm?” </p>
<p><br/>He opened his eyes to see her studying his face worriedly.</p>
<p><br/>“Why?” she finally whispered, and he knew exactly what she meant. </p>
<p><br/>It took every last drop of his remaining self-control to place a slow, tentative kiss on her cheek, his lips brushing on hers when he turned his silvery orbs to take her in.</p>
<p><br/><em>Why</em>? Because he wanted her to mean it. Because he didn’t want excuses of being blinded in the throes of passion. Because he didn’t want to be what's bad for her anymore.</p>
<p><br/>“Kiss me when you want heroes.”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p><br/><br/>“Come on.”</p>
<p><br/>“No.”</p>
<p><br/>“Handsome please?”</p>
<p><br/>“That I am. But still no.”</p>
<p><br/>Theo deflated back against the velvety green seat, eyeing him for any leeway he might be able to sink his claws into. Or fangs, if he were to be completely concurrent with Slytherin analogy. </p>
<p><br/>Snorting at his mate's pathetic attempts to let him practise Legilimency on him, Draco settled for watching the scenery outside as it swept past the window of their compartment. Whites and blues dampened the never-ending fields. Granger would probably describe it as serene and beautiful. Draco leaned towards barren and unwelcoming. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <em>'Where are you?’</em>
</p>
<p><br/>“Allow me to ask what <em>exactly</em> that is,” Theo said with a disengaged drawl, too used to having unknown magic unfold around the Malfoy heir to be truly surprised.</p>
<p><br/>“Enchanted parchment,” Draco responded, just as bored. “Hardly Advanced Arithmancy, Theo.”</p>
<p><br/>“Wouldn’t know, nerd,” he tsked, and let a mischievous smile stretch under his cheekbones. “Granger troubles? It's Christmas break, so don’t give me shite about assignments and two-party study <em>groups</em>. It's the four-legged foxtrot, is what it is.”</p>
<p><br/>Draco couldn’t hold the chuckle in, even if he tried twice as hard as he had. “What makes you think it’s her?”</p>
<p><br/>Theatrical as he could get, Theo held his wand straight in front of his nose and trained his face into a vacant expression. “I’m the best blimming Legilimens Britain has ever known.”</p>
<p><br/>Draco ignored him in favor of whispering a response before the floating parchment went up in flames. <em>Back of the train</em>, he'd said. </p>
<p><br/>“Level with me, Drakey. It's gone way beyond your control, hasn’t it?”</p>
<p><br/>Another beige small piece of parchment materialized out of thin air in front of him. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <em>‘I’m at the front with Harry and Ron… meet me halfway?’</em>
</p>
<p><br/>Draco murmured loud enough for the spell to take effect, deciding to make it a little harder for the witch by asking what he'd get for doing that. “Yup, definitely,” he answered Theo afterwards, a smile on his lips. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <em>'You'll get my part of the concession.’</em>
</p>
<p><br/>The small space of the train compartment suddenly felt constricting and Draco had to actively remind himself to breathe. </p>
<p><br/>“Breathe, mate.” Thankfully, Theo acted as his own personal grinning Remembrall. “Did she ask for your hand in marriage or something?”</p>
<p><br/>“Or something,” he confessed before getting up and walking towards the door.</p>
<p><br/>“Hey, Drake,” Theo called out. “Figure it out once and for all, yeah? I’m sick and tired of seeing you moping around. Tigers don’t change their stripes, but lions might. And you're a snake, put on your winter skin of compromise and snatch that Gryffindor arse from under Potter's nose already, would you? Grab the Snitch by the wings and the kitty by the tail!”</p>
<p><br/>Draco inspected him like he'd grown a second head. “You sure are special, aren’t you?”</p>
<p><br/>“You were looking for <em>brilliant</em> there,” Theo laughed, pointing at himself. “Best blimming poet in Britain, as well.”</p>
<p><br/>The blond wizard shook his head and dismissed him with the soft click of the door. His feet felt heavy as he made his way down the carriages, but they would have to continue pushing through to the halfway point if they wanted to make it work.</p>
<p><br/>It didn’t take him long to find the head of wild curls at the entrance of one of the compartments, and he noted with quiet pride that she'd kicked the two Sixth Year Hufflepuffs out with a Malfoyesque scowl. Draco snickered. </p>
<p><br/>A few strides and he slipped inside with her. They merely looked at each other for a moment. Draco noticed she didn’t ward the door.</p>
<p><br/>“A little less private than I imagine you would have wanted,” he spoke softly. </p>
<p><br/>“A little less dramatic than I imagine you would have wanted,” she replied with the same fondness. “I told Harry and Ron I was coming to meet you. They're probably still working around the sticking charm I put on the door on my way out.”</p>
<p><br/>Draco felt his heart picking up speed. “What was the point of telling if not for them to stop you?”</p>
<p><br/>Her shoulders bounced with a shrug, her eyes fixated on his. “Just so they'd know.”</p>
<p><br/><em>Fuck</em>, it was actually happening. </p>
<p><br/>Draco took a deep breath, Theo's voice echoing in his mind, as his feet moved him closer to her.</p>
<p><br/>“You didn’t need to do that. I shouldn’t have pressured you. It doesn’t matter to me, if you wanted to keep it a secret for longer, I swear. I- I can't tell you how sorry I am, Hermione…”</p>
<p><br/>Seeing her eyes beaming like Christmas lights warmed his chest in ways it really shouldn’t, and he found himself keener and keener on accommodating whatever she wanted. He'd probably hand over his wand should she ask. Which was terrible, and probably pathetic, and he couldn’t give a Hippogriff's arse.</p>
<p><br/>“I shouldn’t have thrown the shovel away.” He smiled at how she had obviously been hanging on his words from months ago. “It was just hard for me to come to terms with the fact that you were right. That I was too caught up in the old you to see the person you'd become. And… I mean… it's us. It would never be straightforward and easy. We have work to do. That's part of the charm of our relationship, isn’t it?”</p>
<p><br/>Draco was certain he was having a stroke, the pangs inside his chest surely not healthy in any way, shape or form.</p>
<p><br/>“Our <em>relationship</em>, huh?” he teased after barely regaining his composure. </p>
<p><br/>She bit her lip to contain a smile. “I’d label it as such, yeah. If Divination is a subject, why not?”</p>
<p><br/>Draco grabbed her by the waist and pulled her against him. “Cheeky witch. Ten seconds in and you're already assigning us the bottom of the barrel?”</p>
<p><br/>“The point is to work our way up, isn’t it?”</p>
<p><br/>“<em>Fuck</em>, up, down, sideways. However you want it, really.”</p>
<p><br/>Hermione laughed along with him, her hands laying softly on his chest. In that moment, when she gulped and her joyous smile dwindled to a hopeful glow, he made a mental note to buy a Pensieve when he got home tonight, to relieve the memory of when she decided. <em>Finally</em> decided.</p>
<p><br/>“Will you… let me?” </p>
<p><br/>Draco shivered, the careful touch of her fingers against his jaw making him close his eyes like a bloody virgin. </p>
<p><br/>“I will if you don’t hate me right now…” he whispered, her breath already tingling his lips. </p>
<p><br/>“And I will if you don’t edge me until I want to cry…” she added in the same soft, teasing tone. </p>
<p><br/>“Then, what are you wanting for, witch? Only so long until my hands gain a mind of their own!”</p>
<p><br/>She stretched up, he leaned down.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi guys! ^^<br/>I thought about doing a chaptered prequel to this story starting from when Dramione first got together, but I'm not too sure anyone would be interested in it, since it would be much eh, less fluffy than this one, for obvious reasons (see the examples pointed out by Draco during the alcove bit). Let me know if you'd like that!<br/>I'll be focusing on my other story, Spilled Ink, from now on, so it would be slower updates for both.<br/>Anyways, I hope you liked it and please let me know your thoughts, should you have the time to feed me a cookie or two! 🍪</p></blockquote></div></div>
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